


If You Liked It (Then You Shoulda Put a Ring On It)

by JoulesIsIronic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Crack, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoulesIsIronic/pseuds/JoulesIsIronic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's becoming a bit of a workaholic and Stiles is feeling unappreciated. He decides to take matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Liked It (Then You Shoulda Put a Ring On It)

Derek picks up on the third ring, which is rather impressive considering he’s at work. Stiles would have settled for leaving a _very_ dirty voicemail, but this? This is better.

“What are you wearing?” Stiiles asks seductively. Well, with attempted seduction. He can’t manage to entirely keep the laughter out of his voice, though he thinks he deserves some kind of gold star for trying since the image of Derek he can see in his head is particularly amusing, all frowny-faces and wary-eyes.

There’s silence on the other end. “What?”

Stiles says it again, slower this time, trying for a more breathless, sex-voicey approach. “What are you wearing?”

Derek’s quiet again, and Stiles can picture his face at that, too – all thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion – when he warily answers, “A suit.” There’s another pause. “Why?”

Stiles huffs out an audible sigh so that Derek will know what a ridiculous creature he is. “You’re really bad at this,” Stiles informs him. “You want to know what I’m wearing? I’ll give you a hint: not a lot.”

A choked sound echoes over the line. “ _What_?” Derek sputters.

“Yeah, that’s right, buck-o-boy. Here I am, all by my lonesome, just lying on our bed, because you had to go to that stupid job of yours, with all those pompous, stuffed-shirt douchebags.”

Something crashes. “Stiles,” he starts, his voice higher than usual.

“Uh-uh, no, I’m gonna stop you right there, mister. This whole ‘workaholic’ thing is getting out of hand. You realize this is the third time in a month you’ve gone in on your day off, right? And for what? Do they thank you? No. Do they reward you in some way? Not particularly. You know what you’re supposed to do on your days off? Spend the day having sex marathons with me. I’m feeling painfully neglected here.”

“Stiles, _please_ …”

“Do I sound like I’m done? ‘Cause I am _so_ not done. I’ve been doing some deep, profound soul-searching during these unexpected bouts of free time. It’s given me a lot of time to think, you know? And, you know what? I fucking miss you, dumbass! It feels like you’re never around! So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re gonna go huddle yourself in your office, or some cramped little bathroom, or, I don’t even care, some little out of the way nook, and then I’m going to talk you through the greatest fucking orgasm you’ve ever experienced without my actual, physical presence…”

“Stiles,” he interrupts again, his voice desperate.

“Then you’re going to spend the rest of your day thinking about me, you got that? You’re gonna be fucking entranced. You’re not gonna be able to hear my name without getting hard like a fucking rock, that’s how good it’s gonna be. And you’re gonna rush through your day, just to come home to me, because you won’t be able to get me out of your head. Or your pants.”  Stiles snorts at his own joke – he really does crack himself up sometimes – and Derek takes advantage of his brief millisecond of silence.

“Before you say anything else,” Derek rushes in, sounding flustered; but Stiles plows on.

“ _And then_ you’re gonna throw open the bedroom door and find me there, waiting ever-so-patiently, and we’re gonna do that thing I like, because I deserve it after all this neglect, and because you like it, too, I know you do. And you’re going to come in – ha, _come_ – and I’m gonna see the bulge in your pants, and…”

“For the love of Christ,” Derek bursts, his voice sounding shrill and mortified, “Everyone can hear you!”

Stiles take a second to process this. Then, pensively and somewhat suspiciously, he asks, “Everyone who?”

“I’m in a _conference room_ full of people!” Derek hisses. “And they can hear every word! You know how loud my phone is!” He lowers his voice to practically a whisper. “God, now everyone’s staring at me.”

Stiles can hear how troubled he is by this. “Oh dear,” he mutters, because never let it be said that Stiles is merciful. “Now my cheeks are all flushed and red, just like when we’re, well, _you know_.”

Derek makes an exasperated sound. “You are actually the devil, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees, pausing, nestling further into the down comforter on their bed. “Why’d you even answer the phone, if you’re busy?”

“The meeting hadn’t started yet, and I didn’t know you were going to… Jesus. I thought it was just a quick little call, and I felt bad about running out on you this morning…”

“As you should,” Stiles says, without any heat.

On the other end of the line, Derek makes a growly noise. Stiles wonder if he’s still even in the conference room, or if he’s taken the conversation outside.

“You! But! You don’t even…” Derek bites out, frustrated.

“Just sayin’. You’re leaving me lonely, is all.”

“But!”

“No buts,” Stiles chides. “You’re the one who wanted to pick up all the extra shifts. And we’re doing okay right now. We don’t really _need_ you working around the clock. Not when we’ve got the two of us putting in full-time. And Saturdays are supposed to be _our_ day, so….”

“But I did it for you!” Derek explodes. “So that I could buy you a….” and then he stops. “A nice dinner. A very nice dinner. And nothing else.”

Stiles blinks, opening and closing his mouth, trying to find words, because it makes perfect fucking sense! His nervous expression when they talk about the future, the looks Derek’s been shooting his dad (like they’ve been having _secret_ conversations), the way he blushed when he accidentally caught the bouquet at Erica and Boyd’s wedding… How could he have missed it? All the clues were right there! “An engagement ring? You’re trying to buy me an engagement ring?”

“What? No!” But Derek says it too quickly. Then he sighs. “Fuck.”

“Ha! Oh, babe, there is going to be so much of that. All of the fucking. All of it. When you get home, there is going to be _all_ of the sex. But you can quit it with all the overtime. I’d rather have you home. For sex… And for other stuff. I don’t care about having a fancy ring, I care about having you.” He pauses. “Oh, that’s a good line.”

“You’re impossible,” Derek says, but Stiles can hear the amusement in his voice.

“You love it.”

He agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written as an exercise for my fiction workshop. The prompt was to write a two page piece composed almost entirely of dialogue; I added a bit more narrative before posting, just to clarify a bit. Hope you enjoyed it!


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